Talk To Me
by facelesswriting
Summary: While finishing their education, the 8th years are picking up the pieces of their lives, but Harry's world is still crashing down around his ears. As he spirals apart, even the most unlikely people are banding together to keep him sane, but will he ever recover? And will he ever find his voice again? (TW for self-harm, panic attacks, and depression)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hi everybody! Before you start reading, I wanted to let you know a few things. First and foremost, this will not be a happy fic. It has mentions of self-harm, panic attacks, and depression. If these are triggering to you, please do not read any further. Second, there will be short chapters, most likely at irregular intervals. Finally, I haven't finished writing it yet, but I think it's going to end in some sort of slash, though I don't think it will get explicit in that way.**

 **This chapter is mainly setting the plot, and the point of view will be listed at the top of each chapter. While most of it is from Hermione's POV, the story mainly revolves around Harry.**

 **Thanks for reading!**

 **-faceless**

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1- Hermione POV

"This is ridiculous," Ron muttered as soon as it was announced, but it couldn't shake my pride.

"Well," I sniffed, "I'm just happy I got it."

"No! Don't get me wrong, 'Mione, you totally deserve it. That prick just doesn't." Ron shot a glare at the Slytherin table as if I didn't already know who he was talking about.

"Language, please."

"Sorry 'Mione." He gave me a peck on the lips, glancing at Harry as soon as he'd pulled back. He'd been silently watching us, but looked back at his food when we turned to him.

"What do you think of it, Harry? You know, Malfoy being Head Boy?"

Harry shrugged, not looking up from his dinner again. He was silent a lot nowadays.

"You didn't want to be it did you?"

He shook his head, looking up at me. I knew what he wanted so I opened my mind to him, a picture of his bed appearing immediately with a questioning air around it.

"Sure Harry, you can go to bed. We don't mind," I looked to Ron to make sure speaking for him was okay, and he nodded. Harry's brow furrowed, obviously his new method of communication hadn't worked. Once Voldemort was gone and no longer holding open his mind, his Occlumency and Legilimency has improved far beyond what any of us had expected. When he didn't feel like talking - which was most of the time now - he sent us pictures and thoughts to communicate as best he could.

He sighed and the bed appeared in my head, this time with me crawling into it beside him.

"Oh! Of course Harry. Just call and I'll be there whenever you need me." I told him. I'd taken to crawling into his bed when he woke with nightmares, sometimes even leaving Ron's bed to do so. Ron's jealousy had vanished with Harry's voice, and he even sometimes joined us, holding Harry's body between ours like we were parents comforting a child as Harry cried himself back to sleep.

Harry stood up to leave, sending a more forceful picture of his bed now - obviously telling us that's where he was going.

"Okay, mate. You don't have to ask, you know," Ron told him. Harry looked back and forth between us, searching for something. Whatever it was he found, and he sent a picture of him kissing first my cheek then Ron's.

"We love you too!" I called after him as he left.

"I worry about him," Ron told me when Harry'd gone, and I nodded in agreement, still watching the empty doorway.

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 **A/N: Let me know what you think!**


	2. Chapter 2

2- Hermione POV

It was after dinner when I saw Malfoy for the first time. I was saying goodnight to Ron, outside the portrait for my new chambers. We were leaning in for a kiss when the new Head Boy walked by, a muted "Ew," muttered as we walked past us into the Head Common Room.

I sighed and pushed myself off the wall I was leaning on, pecking Ron lightly and rolling my eyes as I turned to follow Malfoy in.

I heard Ron chuckle as the portrait swung shut. It wasn't the goodnight kiss I knew he'd been hoping for, but he knew it was all he was getting now. I turned my attention to Malfoy.

He was waiting for me, arms crossed, in the middle of the common room. "Which room do you want?"

I shrugged, a little surprised by the question.

"Fine," He turned to his right, my left, and his trunk started following him from where it was set by the door. I saw the walls change from white to dark blue before the door shut behind him. With the click of the latch, I was startled from my silence.

"Hey, wait a second!" I reached for his door handle before deciding better and knocking instead.

"What?" The door was opened immediately, making me take a step back.

"We need to make patrolling schedules."

He sneered at me, "I am not patrolling."

"No, we need to make them for the prefects to follow. Didn't you read the packet Headmistress McGonagall gave us?"

"No? I'll do it later."

I huffed, "Malfoy, you can't just-"

"Look," he cut me off, "I'm sorry one of your little Gryffindor Golden Boys couldn't do this with you but-"

"Don't be ridiculous, you're perfect for the job." It was Malfoy's turn to take a step back in surprise, but I went on anyway. "You're a natural leader and the Slytherins will listen to you. You command enough respect that the others will listen to you too. It promotes House Unity. Besides, Ronald would never be organised enough to take on responsibility like this."

"Oh? And what about Potter?"

"Harry's.. Well Harry's having a hard time."

"We all are." Malfoy said dryly.

"He spent a year of his life devoted to killing one of the most powerful wizards the world has known, watching his friends and family being tortured along the way."

"Been there, done that."

I blinked for a moment before regaining my train of thought. "Yes, but he did it after being hunted down by the maniac for six years, and knowing the whole time that he wouldn't have anyone to swoop in and save him from it, AND-" I rose my voice over him when he tried to interrupt me again, "He actually did kill someone. That's a lot to deal with."

Malfoy was quiet before he said bitterly, "What family did _he_ have to see tortured?"

"What do you think the Weasleys and I are to him? A sack of potatoes?" He snorted a laugh before I went on, "Or did you forget what happened in your ballroom? Or the fact that every time a dementor is around he relives his parents' murder - something you mercilessly mocked him for I might add."

"I don't care about the schedule, figure it out." He took a step back, making to close the door, then saying, "Put the Hufflepuff fifth years with the Ravenclaw sixth years tonight; it's the first night back so we can go easy, but they'll need someone to show them the ropes. We can do the rest tomorrow." He said the last almost apologetically before he shut the door.


	3. Chapter 3

3- Hermione POV

Weeks into the term, Malfoy and I had developed a sort of truce. He understood that just because he was no longer making the same poor choices didn't mean he didn't have apologies to make for the past, and I understood that it wasn't my job to knock him down to size every chance I could. He was trying after all.

It was a day that Malfoy didn't have Quidditch so it was supposed to be his day to have guests - as the sitting room got a bit crowded if we both had people over at the same time - but Harry had come over with a Potions essay, and I just couldn't say no to him.

Pansy had come over and was upset, shooting glares across the room to us every minute or so, but Harry was doing a good job of pretending he couldn't see her, even as I could feel his mind wince every time she did it.

I was searching desperately to find something to compliment him on before I moved into what needed work as he'd done the whole essay on his own for once, but it was simply a disaster. He'd been hopeful when he knocked on the door, but my expression must have given something away because his face had already fallen by the time I looked up.

He pushed a hopeful questioning feeling into my mind, but I shook my head, "I'm sorry, Harry this just doesn't make any sense."

He hadn't spoken in a few days - even when called on in class - and he'd had a nightmare last night so I knew he was feeling fragile, but when his eyes filled with tears, even I was surprised.

He sniffed, leading to Pansy glaring petulantly at him. He tried to cover his face with his hands, wiping his eyes futilely, and she rolled her eyes and looked away.

"Harry-" I tried, but he was already getting up, waving his hand at me to stay. The gesture was clear even without any picture in my head as he went into my bedroom and shut the door.

I sighed, rubbing my own eyes from tiredness before I got up and made two mugs of tea in our little kitchenette. I knocked on my door and took them in to him. Right before the latch clicked, I thought I heard Malfoy's voice whisper, "Pans, don't. He's struggling."


	4. Chapter 4

4- Hermione POV

I was sitting at a barstool reading when Pansy left. Harry had left hours ago, communicating that he wanted to sleep.

"Why didn't you just take him to your room from the beginning?" Malfoy whirled on me.

"Why didn't you and Pansy go to your room?"

"It's my night!" He shouted.

"He's having a hard time-" There was a light knock on the door, cutting me off.

Malfoy wrenched the door open, "What."

Harry slunk past him, careful not to come close, but looking as if he was sizing Malfoy up, deciding if he needed to come between us. Though he looked fine, he was in his pajamas which I knew meant he'd had a nightmare. He glanced to Malfoy before giving me a kiss on the cheek and going into my bedroom, shutting the door.

Malfoy scoffed, his face red for some reason, "So does Weasley know about this?"

My patience broke, and I said, "Oh piss off, Malfoy," before storming into my room after Harry.

I found him laying under my covers already, holding a pillow to his chest. An image of Sirius falling through the veil flashed across my mind, and I knew it was Harry showing me his nightmare. Unlike what actually happened though, Sirius fell flat the the other side, on hardwood floor, and was writhing in agony, his bushy hair covering his face. A womanly scream echoed around my head and I realised that Sirius had morphed into me, and Harry was reliving watching my torture.

"Shh, I'm fine baby." I whispered. Still in my uniform I crawled into bed behind him, wrapping my arms around him and pulling him to me. He twisted, pushing up my sleeve to expose the scar, and ran his finger over it. He fell asleep with his lips pressed to the word "Mudblood", making my heart break, but at least he slept soundly.


	5. Chapter 5

5- Narrator POV

Hermione was gone when he woke up so the bed was empty. She hadn't been gone very long though because the bed was still warm. Harry rolled until his feet hit the ground. It was always weird waking up after a good cry, feeling empty and groggy but clean. He walked to the common room and didn't see her, but heard the shower going. He knew there was probably a curtain and she wouldn't care anyway so he pushed open the door to use the bathroom. As he was washing his hands, he heard the water shut off and the curtain pull open. Harry caught a glimpse of Malfoy's surprised face before the curtain snapped shut again.

"What the fuck Potter!"

Malfoy heard the door click shut as Harry must have left and felt remorse flash through him as he was blinded by a picture of the outside of the blue shower curtain and a strong sense of the Granger girl and understood that Potter was trying to tell him he was sorry and that he'd thought it was Granger in the shower. He brushed the weird feeling off, preferring confusion.


	6. Chapter 6

6- Hermione POV

I was sitting at the table with Harry, eating the breakfast I'd gone to get when Malfoy walked out of the bathroom, steam from his shower following him. His face stained red when he saw us.

"I wonder what's got him all embarrassed. He probably knows you spend the night and thinks we're sleeping together." I told Harry, looking up to see his face red too.

For the first time since the war when he kept his lips tight and eyes resolutely on his breakfast, I didn't think it was because he was sad.


	7. Chapter 7

7- Hermione POV

We were all sitting on the couch, revising Harry's potions essay since it was my night to have the common room. Even Ron had offered helpful hints, but we could tell Harry was distracted. Malfoy was sitting in the armchair nearest the fireplace. He was reading - which wouldn't have been a problem except that he was swinging his leg, thumping it lightly against the leg of the chair.

Ron and I could see Harry's mounting tension and glanced at each other over Harry's head. I opened my mouth to say something, but right as I did, Malfoy shuddered and glanced up at Harry.

"Sorry," he whispered, and his leg stopped swinging. I looked down to see Harry looking back at him, then turned to see Ron was just as confused as I was. "But-" Malfoy hesitated. "Don't do that anymore."

Harry ducked his head, sheepish, and breathed, "Sorry."

It was the first word he'd spoken in five days.

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 **A/N: Two this week because the first one is so short! Let me know what you think!**


	8. Chapter 8

8- Hermione POV

"Harry, you should come to the Quidditch game," I watched Ginny lean on Harry's shoulder, batting her eyes up at him. "It's the only thing I've asked like all week, _and_ if you say yes now, I'll throw in the extra bonus of me not bugging you anymore."

Harry shrugged, dislodging her a little bit.

"That means no," She pouted. "You know you can just tell me 'no', right? You don't have to be wishywashy. It won't hurt my feelings."

I sighed. Ginny had taken the breakup well - after of course a few broken lamps and other knickknacks, but that was just accidental magic - and sometimes I thought I was the one most upset by it. I still thought Harry needed someone stable in his life like she was, but it had been one of the only solid decisions he'd made all summer.

"'Mione?" I looked up to see Ron nod to the door. Somewhere during my thinking, Harry had gotten up and was walking out of the Great Hall. "It's okay, I'll go." Ron offered, following him.

"Okay I know he's hurting, but that was rude."

"What was?" I asked Ginny.

Her eyes got wide like she couldn't believe I was questioning her, "You saw it! He totally walked away when I was in the middle of a sentence!"

"Sorry I was sort of somewhere else."

"I know you're worried about him, and don't get me wrong, I am too! But that was rude."

"He said no though," I offered.

"Uhm. No? He didn't."

"Yeah, he did. You said it yourself, 'that means no'."

Ginny huffed and walked away, murmuring something about getting ready for the game, and Neville slid over.

"Don't be too hard on her," he chuckled. "She just asked out Dean."

I gasped, "Thomas? Doesn't she know he's-"

"Dating Seamus? She does now." We laughed together. Dean and Seamus had been dancing around each other for years, their affection obvious to nearly everyone but each other. Finally Parvati had set them up on a blind date with each other this summer, and they'd been together since. Neville got up, but before he left, he cocked his head, looking at her. "If you ever need anything-"

"I know where to find you Neville. Thank you."

"For Harry too."

"For Harry too," I reassured him.


	9. Chapter 9

9- Draco POV

I walked into the common room I shared with Granger. The game was too loud and I had better things to do anyway. I flopped, undignified, over the back of the couch, fully intending to take a nap. Only someone was already there.

I jumped up, apologies stumbling from my mouth, expecting that I'd just laid on top of Granger, but it was Potter. I felt an immense wave of remorse flood through my head, so strong that I felt like the background emotions weren't supposed to slip through to me.

I grasped my temples, "Please don't do that. I have my shields up, and you break them down so fast it hurts."

The wave intensified as if by reflex before it vanished completely. I rubbed my eyes, suddenly exhausted. When I looked at Potter, he was just sitting on the couch, curled with his knees up to his chest and watching me. I felt like he was making room for me to sit if I wanted to, but cautious and ready to move if I didn't want him there. Either reaction felt equally welcome.

"Why don't you talk?"

He flinched, and I felt bad. Looking at him, I could tell he'd been crying recently, and I wondered if he was here for Granger and if I should go get her. Better to ask.

When I did, Potter shook his head, but still didn't talk. "Do you want me to leave you alone or…?" I asked, unsure, and vaguely wishing I'd just gone to my room for a nap instead.

Potter just shrugged so I started to walk away. I was nearly to my doorway before I heard him sniff. I turned back to see he hadn't moved but was crying again. He sniffed again and wiped his nose on his sleeve. I cringed. That was disgusting.

"Here," I gave him my handkerchief, standing in front of him again. "Do you want to tell me what's wrong? Talk about it?"

He shook his head vehemently so I sighed and dropped my shields, feeling my face distort as I said, "You can show me if you want."

Before I knew what was happening I saw a door trying to shut. It blew back open and a redhead woman was screaming, but I couldn't hear it. A flash of green spit in front of me, and the woman crumpled to the floor, revealing a baby in a crib just beyond her. The sound caught up, and I could tell it was what she had been saying moments ago. "James! Not Harry, not my baby, not HaRRRRRYYYYYYYY!" The baby was just breathing calmly, not understanding but still crying, as the name spun higher and higher pitched. A new light shot out and struck the child, shattering, and a splinter came rushing back at me.

Suddenly I was standing back in the common room, something Granger had said coming back to me. 'Or the fact that every time a dementor is around he relives his parents' murder - something you mercilessly mocked him for I might add.'

This was that memory then. He must see it through He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's eyes. I shuddered, looking up from my feet. Potter was sobbing.

I don't know why, but I sat down next to him, pulling him into my arms like my mother had done to me when the Dark Lord had been torturing someone where we could hear. I stroked his hair and hushed him as he whimpered.

"I just want to disappear."


	10. Chapter 10

10- Draco POV

We must have fallen asleep like that. I'm not sure what woke me up, but I was still in the in-between.

It was like long carriage rides as a kid - where you knew vaguely what was going around you, and you could feel your head bobbing up and down, but you couldn't fully wake up no matter how hard you tried.

Now I could feel my hands moving through soft hair, and a body pressed against mine.

I heard the click of the portrait shut, and my eyes snapped open. I craned my neck around to see who was at the door. Granger wasn't looking at me, but I gave her a polite smile anyway.

"Is Harry okay?" She asked.

I was confused. He was her friend, why was she asking me? Then I turned my attention to the person leaning, asleep, under my arm. Oh.

Everything from before I'd fallen asleep rushed back. His mother dying. I couldn't believe he'd shown me that.

"He had a nightmare."

"And you…?"

I shrugged, uncomfortable, and the movement must have woken Potter because he stirred. A feeling of warm gratitude washed over me, and my hands went to my temples, " _Please._ "

Potter's eyes snapped up to me and almost fell over in his haste to get up, his face heating. His eyes locked with Granger's for a second before he disappeared into the bathroom. I heard the shower start, and looked at Granger for an answer.


	11. Chapter 11

11- Hermione POV

"He thought you were me," I could hear myself say, watching the closed door. I didn't know if he'd meant to do it, but Harry had sent me a feeling with the picture of looking up to see my face when he woke up. It was mainly filled with embarrassment, but there was a small, pure sliver that just felt _nice_ to be held my Malfoy.

I started to follow him into the bathroom, but Malfoy stopped me. "What are you doing? What's with you guys interrupting people's showers?"

 _Well that's interesting,_ I thought. "He won't care. Besides, he'll want to show me his dream."

"Oh," Malfoy hesitated, "He kinda already showed me."

 _Oh. Very interesting._


	12. Chapter 12

12- Harry POV

I hadn't been down to Hermione's common room in weeks. I couldn't make myself go no matter how much I knew my friends wanted me to.

 _I don't want to. Why don't they get that. I can't. I can't I can't I can't I can't I can't I can't I-_

"You okay Harry?" Hermione was looking at me like I'd been gone too long, her brown doe eyes worried.

 _I can't I can't I can't I ca-_

I pressed my lips together tighter, then released the extra pressure.

 _I can't I can't I-_

"If you're sure, mate."

 _I can't I can't I can't I can't-_

I clenched my hands into fists.

 _I can't I-_

"I don't want to leave you," Hermione hesitated.

 _No! No! No! No! No! No-_

I imagined her sitting snuggled up to Ron on the couch in her common room and sent it to her.

 _I can't I can't I can't I can't I-_

"Okay," She didn't sound sure, "You know where we'll be if you need us." The door clicked shut behind them, and after a simple wave of my wand to ward it, I was screaming.

The room was spinning and I didn't remember the walls being purple. I was sure things were shattering about. It was okay. So was I.

I could feel myself sobbing. I couldn't feel myself breathing. My chest was heaving, twitching, but there was no air.

My arms hurt. The underside of my nails felt full, and I knew I'd peeled strips of skin off my arms again, but there was no _air_.

I was choking on salt. My throat burned. I didn't know where I was. _And there was no air._


	13. Chapter 13

13- Harry POV

Neville found me.

His lips tightened into a thin line. I could see again, and the room was red like it was supposed to be. It was probably a mess too, but I couldn't see that much from where I was on the floor. He flicked his wrist, not even using a wand, and things were flying back into their places.

"Harry, what happened?"

He knew I wouldn't answer. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't with the way I was breathing, gasping. There were too many breaths in before a breath out. All uneven.

Neville had turned into such a powerful wizard. I wanted to tell him. I tried to tell him I was proud of him but the only word I could get out was 'proud' - and barely even that. I said it over and over, dozens of times as he scooped me up in his arms. It didn't seem to matter where in my uneven breathing cycle the word wanted to come out. Most of the time it sounded strangled; it was almost never the whole word, but he answered me anyway.

"Thanks, Harry. I like to think my parents are proud of me too."

He carried me to his bed and lay me down, lifting my stiff arms to look at the bloody mess there.

"I'm not the best at healing, Harry. I should get Hermione," he told me.

My breaths got quicker, exhales turning to small screams. I grabbed onto him.

"No, no, I won't leave. Shhh."

I couldn't unclench my hand, but he didn't seem to mind, focusing on my arms. I couldn't feel them anymore, but I wasn't worried. I kept my nails short for this exact reason. They would only be shallow cuts.

My vision was going fuzzy around the edges again as Neville lay my arms back down. "Just a second. I won't leave."

He stepped back to his wardrobe, changing quickly into his pajamas. Then he looked to me. I nodded, uncontrolled. He methodically stripped me down to my pants and pulled my own pajamas out to redress me. He pulled the blankets from my bed so he wouldn't have to move me under his and lay down next to me.

I curled up next to him as he wrapped an arm around me, my body moving without me thinking about it. I put my head on his chest as he started rubbing small, soothing circles into my back. He murmured directions to me as we lay there, and I tried to follow them, listening to his heartbeat and trying to match my breathing to the steady rise and fall of his chest. My eyes were starting to feel gritty, and my arms had started to burn. I was trying to listen; I _was_. It was just so _hard_.

I closed my eyes as pathetic tears started to seep into Neville's shirt. I don't think I got my breathing quite right before I fell asleep. My toes tingled as I drifted off.


End file.
